Complete Project Gutenberg John Galsworthy Works eBook

“Don’t confuse yourself by dragging in
Christianity. Christianity has nothing to do
with law.”

“You talked of principles,” said Gregory—­“ecclesiastical”

“Yes, yes; I meant principles imported from
the old ecclesiastical conception of marriage, which
held man and wife to be undivorceable. That conception
has been abandoned by the law, but the principles still
haunt——­”

“I don’t understand.”

Mr. Paramor said slowly:

“I don’t know that anyone does.
It’s our usual muddle. But I know this,
Vigil—­in such a case as your ward’s
we must tread very carefully. We must ‘save
face,’ as the Chinese say. We must pretend
we don’t want to bring this divorce, but that
we have been so injured that we are obliged to come
forward. If Bellew says nothing, the Judge will
have to take what’s put before him. But
there’s always the Queen’s Proctor.
I don’t know if you know anything about him?”

“No,” said Gregory, “I don’t.”

“Well, if he can find out anything against our
getting this divorce, he will. It is not my
habit to go into Court with a case in which anybody
can find out anything.”

“Do you mean to say”

“I mean to say that she must not ask for a divorce
merely because she is miserable, or placed in a position
that no woman should be placed in, but only if she
has been offended in certain technical ways; and if—­by
condonation, for instance—­she has given
the Court technical reason for refusing her a divorce,
that divorce will be refused her. To get a divorce,
Vigil, you must be as hard as nails and as wary as
a cat. Now do you understand?”

Gregory did not answer.

Mr. Paramor looked searchingly and rather pityingly
in his face.

“It won’t do to go for it at present,”
he said. “Are you still set on this divorce?
I told you in my letter that I am not sure you are
right.”

“How can you ask me, Paramor? After that
man’s conduct last night, I am more than ever
set on it.”

“Then,” said Mr. Paramor, “we must
keep a sharp eye on Bellew, and hope for the best.”

Gregory held out his hand.

“You spoke of morality,” he said.
“I can’t tell you how inexpressibly mean
the whole thing seems to me. Goodnight.”

And, turning rather quickly, he went out.

His mind was confused and his heart torn. He
thought of Helen Bellew as of the woman dearest to
him in the coils of a great slimy serpent, and the
knowledge that each man and woman unhappily married
was, whether by his own, his partner’s, or by
no fault at all, in the same embrace, afforded him
no comfort whatsoever. It was long before he
left the windy streets to go to his home.

CHAPTER X

AT BLAFARD’S

There comes now and then to the surface of our modern
civilisation one of those great and good men who,
unconscious, like all great and good men, of the goodness
and greatness of their work, leave behind a lasting
memorial of themselves before they go bankrupt.